“Not for long if you do not ensure it behaves. My children tolerate it enough, but do not push their endurance.”
It is just a cat,Elinor wanted to say, but she turned her back to her stepmother, letting her know she was done with their conversation.
“Enjoy your night,” she muttered.
“The probability of discovering another constellation is growing more with each day. Despite the pollution in the sky,as well as general heavy cloud cover, we are still making discoveries. We are to depart for Greece in a week’s time, and while sailing, I will be making notes while Dr. Fyro assists me with the telescope.”
Elinor read aloud to herself, poring over one of the older essays from her collection of them. The research paper was from a handful of years ago, and Elinor had been seeking ways to find out if Dr. Waylan had indeed made more discoveries in Greece. So far, there had only been one updated paper, more of a travel account.
Despite having read that essay a thousand times over, it brought her comfort as she listened to Morland House winding down. There was the clatter of dishes being washed from dinner, the sweep of maids’ shoes as they finished polishing the hallway busts, and then the housekeeper making her final rounds of the house.
Once she heard Mrs. Falby outside in the hallway, Elinor sprung from her bed, putting aside the essay. She opened her door, sticking her head out of the doorway to find the housekeeper approaching.
“Lady Elinor,” Mrs. Falby greeted. “I was just about to knock and ask if you wanted anything before the staff all retire for the night.”
“No, thank you,” Elinor answered. “I am about to go to bed, in fact, but I am certain my stepmother will want her usual glassof wine when she returns from the ball. Do you know if Lord Henleigh is staying in his old chambers?”
“I believe he will be, yes.”
Elinor fought down her irritation at her stepbrother staying longer than she hoped, but he tended to stay in Morland House the night of a ball before using breakfast as a way to torture Elinor further. Especially after their expected success of the night, she knew she would be in for breakfast the following morning, where she would need every scrap of endurance she possessed.
“Very well.” She ducked her head in farewell. “Have a good night, Mrs. Farley. Can you send Natalie up to my room to help me prepare for bed?”
She never needed the help, but it was the excuse they used most nights.
Soon, she promised herself.Soon, you will have some reprieve tonight.
“Of course, Lady Elinor. Sleep well.”
The housekeeper curtsied away, disappearing down the long hallway, extinguishing the wall-mounted oil lamps on her way. Elinor lingered in the doorway for a moment, her eyes straying to the portrait on the other side of the hallway.
While her stepmother mostly kept their portraits in the family gallery—especially ones of Elinor and her parents together—she kept the family one on display before their chambers.
Elinor liked to think it was a reminder, for it had been painted the day of her father’s wedding to her stepmother, as if her stepmother wanted to say,we have entered your life, and there is nothing you can do about it.
Belinda looked smug, Gilbert looked as though he was devising something, that cruel turn to his mouth present, while Joanna looked pleased, posing for the portrait. But it was her father who Elinor looked at, and her heart ached for how much she missed him.
She had his sandy-blonde hair, and it usually fell around his face, unkempt when he was too busy researching or studying, uncaring about his appearance. Elinor could often be the same. In the portrait, he had it tied back with a blue ribbon, and Elinor still remembered her giggling at his grumbling.
“I miss you, Papa,” she whispered, slipping back into her room.
Her eyes went over the essay again. Dr. Waylan had been one of his favorite astronomers, and he had gifted her the essay for her seventeenth birthday.
It is our secret, he had whispered the night of her birthday, their voices hushed, away from Elinor’s stepmother.Treasure it, my dear girl, for it has kept me company plenty of nights. Although, do excuse my own scribblings.
She had only loved the essay more for the personal touch.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Natalie entering, curtseying quickly. “The usual routine?” she asked, as Elinor swiped the cloak from beneath her bed, chuckling at the little orange hairs from Newton’s earlier nap.
There were two reasons she kept the cloak under there: Newton loved to nap on it, and she always needed it when discretion was imperative.
“The usual routine,” Elinor affirmed, right as Natalie nodded, shoving open her window.
She leaned down, confirming that Elinor’s usual foothold had not been moved. It was a crate that would steady her long enough to swing herself down to the next level near the ballroom below, and then she would drop down into the gardens.
“I will ensure nobody is near the ballroom,” Natalie said, like she always did. “And I will prepare your horse.”
“I think I will walk tonight. The workhouse is not too far away.”